Stylish stories
by TreeFiddy04
Summary: these stories are about the love life of stan and kyle
1. don't drop that soap

As evening crept upon the quite mountain town of South Park, Colorado, four teenagers sat in the glow of a television owned by one Stanley Marsh. Having retreated into the house after a rigorous game of street-hockey, the boys were watching a movie before it was time to return to their respective abodes. The movie in question? I Now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry.

"Ewww, he dropped the soap!" Cartman exclaimed when the scrawny fireman's means of cleanliness slipped from his grasp. Stan and Kenny ignored him, but Kyle gave him a puzzled glance.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked.

"When you drop the soap in prison at the open showers and stuff, you get plundered by the buttpirates!" Cartman informed him with swashbuckling enthusiasm, followed by a grimace at his irrepressible enthusiasm for piracy of anykind. He would have rather kept that a secret.

"Butt-pirates? Cartman, what the hell are you talking about?"

While Kenny snickered at his friend's naivety, Stan merely rolled his eyes and continued to watch as the recently out-ed black man entered the scene, singing a song Stan was mildly horrified to know the words to. 'Anything you want done baby, I'll do it naturally...'

Cartman looked over at Kyle, just as amused as Kenny. "You know, 'annalriffic'. Assbandits. Sodomizing. Fudge packing. 'Going through the backdoor'."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about." Kyle frowned, put out.

"I'm talking about..." The chubby one did a quick scan of the room to confirm the lack of parental figures within earshot before leaning in and whispering, "Buttsex."

Kyle gaped. "You're full of shit, Cartman."

"No, dude, I'm totally serious!" He said, pleased with himself at having caused such displeasure.

Kyle turned to Kenny for support, "He's not, is he?"

But Kenny just snickered some more. "Yeah man."

"Sick, dude!" Kyle made a face.

"Okay, lets just watch the movie." Stan cut in before the conversation could progress.

All too soon, the movie was over and Cartman and Kenny were walking out the door.

"Hey Stan, I'm gonna use your shower," Kyle shouted from the stairs.

"Don't drop the soap!" Cartman called over his shoulder, causing Kenny to burst into a fit of laughter from beneath his parka.

Kyle glared at their retreating backs as Stan closed the door.

Sliding back the shower curtain, Kyle pulled the nozzle out and turned in a ninety degree angle, slowly tugging it upwards till the fingers he's held into the spray signaled it was at the right temperature. He hastily pulled off his clothes and stepped into the pleasantly steamy shower. Back facing the stream, he breathed in deep as the water drizzled onto his short curls, the weight pulling them down just past his ears. Over the years, the startling 'frow he sported as a child had fizzled out into the kinky red curls that complimented his maturing features. A high metabolism had blessed him with a toned stomach, and high school sports teams granted him lean, slender muscles. Looking into mirrors and comparing himself with the huge football players in the locker room, he figured he could use more bulk. But truth be told, he was an attractive young man, something that didn't escape the notice of the local girls.

Kyle scanned the clusters of shampoos, soaps, shaving creams and conditioners, selecting the Old Spice. He smiled, reminded of the insane commercials of the chiseled black man talking about mustaches and riding horses without a shirt on. Then, uncomfortable that the hyperbolic advertisements actually succeeded in swaying his selection of body wash, he put it down for some shampoo. He splattered a good amount into his palm and began massaging his scalp with his fingertips. He sighed with content into the steamy air as he felt the suds dribble off the ends of his hair onto his shoulders, and down the length of his back.

He rinsed out the shampoo and opted for a bar of Irish Springs. He wet the soap and began scrubbing his arms and shoulders. As he glided the suds over his chest, he heard the distinctive click of the bathroom door. Kyle paused in his showering and stuck his head around the curtain to investigate.

"...Stan?"

His companion was stood dumbly in the middle of the bathroom, barefoot and shirtless, unbuckling his belt. His exposed neck and arms wore a farmer's tan of a sticky-looking, brownish substance that also clung to his pants. Stan looked up, "Hey, Kyle."

Kyle frowned. "Dude, I'm taking a shower, what the hell are you doing in here?"

Stan grimaced. "Getting in."

Kyle's eyes widened, "No you're not!"

He glowered. "Yes, I am. I was outside trying to move the bag of moldy leaves I cleaned out of the gutter yesterday, and the bag broke over my shoulder. Its disgusting and I smell like shit. I'm getting in that shower." His pants fell to his ankles, and he stepped out of them. "Besides, it's not like we've never showered together before. Its not gonna be weird or something."

"Dude! It's totally gonna be weird! That was a huge shower room, this is one tiny bathroom."

Stan ignored his outraged friend and began pulling down his boxers. Kyle quickly turned away, obviously not going to win the right to a private shower and not caring to watch Stan take off his boxers. He felt blood rush to his cheeks in a most unpleasant manner at the sound of his friend's underwear rustling to the ground.

Kyle stepped toward the shower head, eyes staring down the drain. He heard the shower curtain open, and close behind him as two feet thunk-ed onto the acrylic tub floor.

"Kyle, quite grumbling."

"Well excuse me if I was enjoying my shower ALONE."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Relax, dude. Want me to wash your back?" He said with a cheeky grin.

Kyle shot him a scowl in response.

"Come on, don't be like that. It's not like you were jerking it or something."

"DUDE!" Kyle spun around.

Stan smiled sheepishly at his friend's outrage, "It was a joke."

Kyle glared. "Don't make this any weirder than it already is."

Stan shrugged. "I really don't think it's that weird dude. And it's not like you're a macho, hyper masculine dude that can't be seen doing anything that might look gay. What the problem?"

"Your naked dick is 6 inches away from my naked dick, that's my problem," Kyle deadpanned.

Stan's eyes went wide and he coughed. "Well..when you put it like that, yeah..that's pretty weird."

Having made his point, Kyle returned to showering and facing away from his friend. Stan was correct; this certainly wasn't their first shower together. They'd been in communal showers from their Lil' Crime Stoppers days to the high school track team. But today there was a distinctly awkward air to what they were doing, something that had never been there before. Before, when there were always others in the room. Witnesses that could confirm the innocence of the act. Now they were alone, and even if nothing happened (not that there was anything tohappen), it was their word against the minds of their pervy friends. He decided no one was going to know about this. He groaned inwardly; somehow, that made it worse.

Kyle dipped his head slightly, allowing water to splash past him onto Stan.

"Thanks," Stan said as he wet his hair.

Kyle sniffed. "Dude, you really do stink."

"Duh!" Stan lathered his hair with shampoo. "So, did you hear the rumor that Bebe likes you?"

Kyle scoffed. "Yeah, right. Even if she did, it's not like anything is gonna happen."

"Why not, dude? She's pretty. Her boobs came back and everything."

"Eh. She's just not my type." Kyle scratched his neck absentmindedly. "Kinda gossipy and she follows all those weird trends. I feel like if enough people take up this Jersey Shore fad, she's going to go flat out Snooky on us. Can you picture it? Its terrifying. I'm not going down that road."

Stan laughed out loud at the image, "Yeah, I can see that. But then again, there is something wrong with any girl if she likes you." Without turning his head, Kyle punched Stan in the arm, who chuckled. "Seriously though, you find something wrong with every girl. Whats up with that? Please tell me you're not 'holding out for a nice Jewish girl' like your mom wants you to."

"No man, nothing like that. I just haven't seen anything interesting, that's all."

Stan paused, a thought occurring. "Kyle, have you ever even kissed a girl?"

"Yeah, kind of. Actually, none that really counted. No, I guess."

Silence.

"Dude, you've NEVER been kissed! That's just sad!"

Kyle rolled his eyes, "Oh what the hell ever, you've barely kissed Wendy, and that was back when we were all kids. Remember when you puked every time she said one word to you?"

"Hey! I could have made out with tons of chicks since then!"

"Yeah, but you haven't."

"And how do you know?"

"Well, have you?" Kyle asked evenly.

Stan looked down in embarrassment and went back to conditioning his hair, "Well, I mean, not tons of people, but I've kissed girls before! Its, ah...nice. "

Silence fell between the two, Stan feeling incredibly awkward as his mind continued on the tangent of sucking face. Why did he have to bring up kissing when they were alone in a shower together? It didn't bode well with him.

The quiet lingered for a few moments longer before Kyle spoke. "Hey Stan?"

"Yeah?" Stan resumed scrubbing his underarm, attempting to act as though he hadn't just been having thoughts that are totally not ok to have when you're naked standing next to your also naked best friend.

"What's being kissed like? I mean, I've seen it enough, people making out in the halls at school or whatever, and it looks so weird. And sloppy! Whats so great about it?" He asked, not realizing the danger of the topic.

Stanley had difficulty swallowing his own saliva. "Um...I dunno, its kind of hard to explain. I mean, I just don't think I have the right words for it. It's the kinda thing you have to sho-" Stan cut himself off mid sentence as his face instantly burned at the accompanying thought.

Kyle turned to face his friend in light of the silence. "The kinda thing you what?"

As his friend turned to face him, an odd desire crept over Stan. What would it be like to kiss Kyle? He hadn't ever thought of his childhood friend like that before, but then again, they were no longer children. The rounded, chubby cheeks of his youth had given way to a smooth, slender face and a strong jaw line. His deeply red hair, wet and matted to his face amplified the pink glow that had risen to his cheeks from the heat of the shower. His eyes were glazed from the steam and his lips looked soft and full. 'What would it be like, to kiss them? Would it be different than a girl?' Stan didn't dare to venture his gaze below the prominent collar bones of the other boy.

Stan was pulled from his reevaluation by the reality of the situation. Kyle had become so...handsome, and Stan was finding himself attracted. There was a moment where everything in his vision appeared to slow, as the two ways this could end entered the boy's mind.

"Stan?" Kyle called, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Stan looked at him cautiously. "You really want to know what kissing is like?"

Kyle shrugged at his friend. "Well, yeah dude."

In a boldly decisive move, Stan leaned forward and swiftly pressed his lips to Kyle's. He froze as Stan held his arm to brace himself, moving his lips gently for a moment before pulling away as quickly as he had come.

"Stan..." Kyle managed from a surprised stupor. He covered his mouth with his hand and stood still.

"Ah, um," Stan faltered, finally letting go of Kyle's forearm, "I'm sorry, that wasn't...it was a joke, I didn't mean to…shit, I'm so sorry," He was met with silence. "..Kyle?"

"Stan..that was...I mean, I didn't know you...ah, felt that way?"

Stan felt a pang of anxiety rush from his chest to his stomach and he looked away from his friend. "Was it...did you...like it?"

Kyle touched his lips gently as he considered honestly.

Stan braced for the worst, heart pounding painfully in his throat.

"...Yeah."

Stan blinked and turned his face up to meet Kyle's, "Wait, what? I-"

Stan was cut off once more as this time Kyle initiated a kiss. It was gentle, but longer. There was a hint of passionate, teenage hunger. It felt...good. It felt good to be kissing Stan. But he wanted more, he wanted to be closer. Something was urging him to push his bare body against Stan's.

The boys pulled their faces apart, breathless and flushed from the hot water and nervous excitement. Kyle stared, unable to coherently process that his first kiss was a naked make out session with his best friend that left him partially aroused down south. A quick glance down to Stan's exposed 'self' also demonstrated his enjoyment, and Kyle's heart fluttered down through his stomach all the way to his knees. He looked back up to Stan's lust glazed eyes, and the two hormone driven boys remained where they stood, fighting to determine if the next step was something they wanted, and if it wasn't, if was it something they could even avoid.

"S-Stan?" Kyle panted softly.

"Kyle?" Stan breathed.

"Is..is this what you want?"

Stan licked his lips. He wasn't sure what would happen afterwards, or what exactly Kyle meant, but something told him that he definitely wanted it. Whatever it was. "Yeah…I want this."

Throwing resolution away, Stan let out a groan and pounced Kyle again. This time, their bodies pressed up against each other, and burned with desire. It was far different than anything the two boys had shared together. Sure, they'd had their bodies pressed together before, when they'd hugged, or when they wrestled...but never naked, never wet and neveraroused.

Stan nipped and sucked at Kyle's bottom lip, and the redhead gasped slightly with the pleasure of the new experience. He angled his mouth downward to meet the others and parted his lips, their tongues sliding agonizingly slowly against each other. Together they moaned, craving more, faster, deeper.

Kyle's arms closed around Stan, pulling him in tightly. The bar of Irish Springs Kyle had long forgotten slipped from his grasp and trailed down Stan's back. Such a small sensation went unnoticed by the teen, who was busy getting his sensory fill of more important things. The soap was picked up by the water trailing down the tub and dodged large, stumbling feet till it came to pool at the drain. It danced circles over the opening, spinning wildly in the constant rush of water, far too large to make it through the small holes.

Long after the shower had been left, and the two boys had hastily fallen into a bed, it remained there; a quiet reminder of what happens when the soap is dropped.

Epilogue:

"My bologna has a first name is R-A-N-D-Y, my bologna has a second name its R-A-N-D-Y," The middle aged man sang over the sound of the running shower as he unbuttoned his pants.

"No wait," He muttered to himself, "That's my bathtub song, what is it that I sing in the shower?" He stood naked in all his aged, hairy, glory, and pondered.

The song hit him like a lightening bolt and he snapped his fingers, "Oh yeah!"

He smoothly raised an eyebrow and gazed at the shower through half lidded eyes as he sauntered over to it. As soon as the water touched his skin, he began to sing in a deep, sultry voice. "Jessie is a friend,

Yeah I know he been a good friend of mine

But lately something's changed

It ain't hard to define,"

Randy clicked open his bottle of old spice. "Jessie's got himself a girl

And I want to make her mine

He rubbed the liquid over his chest, wiggling his shoulders from side to side with his singing. "And she's watching him with those eyes

And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it!

And he's holding her in his arms late, late at night" He abandoned washing to dramatically sing into the container of Old Spice. Also abandoned was the throaty voice he'd been using. Abandoned for an alarmingly loud, particularly atrocious falsetto, "You know I wish that I had Jessie's girl!

I wish that I had Jessie's girl!

Where can I find her, a woman like that?"

"Right over here, big boy."

Randy turned to face his wife, "Hey Sharon, you, uh, want a little lovin?" He asked with a cocky nod of his head.

Sharon chuckled seductively, "You know it!" She climbed into the shower with her husband, winkling her nose upon seeing what he held, "Isn't that Stanley's Old Spice?"

Randy held the bottle protectively. "No Sharon, its mine! I wanna be like the guy on the commercials!"

With a roll of her eyes, Sharon sighed, not bothering to explain to a grown man the manipulations of the commercial industry. But something distracting caught her eye, and she began to chuckle once more.

Randy looked back at her, "What? Whats so funny?"

"Looks like somebody dropped the soap," She said with a wink.

Randy looked to the drain where, indeed, a bar of Irish Springs lay on the drain.

Sharon's gaze turned predatory. "You know what happens when you drop the soap, Randy."

Randy grinned and kissed his wife passionately. "Boy, do I."

 **A/N-** ** _Remember to like, follow, share, and review. This is Boi Marsh signing out!_**


	2. pillow talk

Stan climbed on top of Kyle and they rolled around in the hay, completely oblivious to the world around them. All they could see was each other, and in that moment that their bodies joined together they became perfect. Kyle cried out Stan's name again and again, begging him not to stop. Stan's ass bounced up and down in a steady rhythm. Whump-whump-whump.

"You're amazing, Stan," Kyle sighed. "Don't let me go."

"I won't."

Again and again they came together, and each time Kyle grunted in pleasure. Stan picked up speed as he reached his climax, pushing into Kyle harder and faster every time he drew back. Kyle was on cloud nine. People always said the first time hurt, but to him it was like being reunited with some long-lost part of him. It was as though he and Stan were designed to be together.

Kyle felt his heat begin to rise. He was as close as Stan was to climaxing. He gave out a moan as he emptied his load. A short while later, Stan grunted as he filled Kyle full of his man-juice. They fell down in the hay next to each other, panting and positively glowing.

"You...were...fantastic," Kyle said between breaths.

"You weren't bad yourself," Stan replied.

They smiled at each other and rubbed noses. Eskimo kisses. That was their thing. They liked to give each other Eskimo kisses more than regular kisses.

"So I was thinking," Kyle said, running his finger through Stan's gingery chest hair.

"Hmm?"

"Just that we'll both be seventeen soon, and I was thinking that maybe it's time."

Stan pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger, a mannerism he'd had since a very young age.

"Kyle, can we not talk about this?" he said. "I mean, I don't mean to be a dick about this, but this hardly seems like the right time..."

"I was just thinking..."

"...to be having that same old conversation," Stan said as if Kyle hadn't tried to speak.

"I don't know why we can't just talk about it," Kyle replied. He grabbed his shirt and pants and covered himself up. "After all this time, don't you think they'd..."

"No, Kyle, I don't," Stan said. "What I've tried to tell you time and again is that we can never tell our parents about us. Not now, not later, not ten years from now."

Kyle crossed his arms. He was pouting.

"You never even gave the idea a chance. You don't know how they'll react."

"I know exactly how they'll react," Stan said. "My dad will be upset. He's always found the amount of time we've spent together over the years suspicious. If he found out I was boofing my best friend, he'd hit the roof."

"Yeah, but he used to be a metro sexual!" Kyle argued. "Surely he's not prejudiced against gays!"

"Not when it's the other guy who's gay," Stan replied. "When it's his own son, he'll lose it. He's big on me providing him grandchildren and passing on the Marsh family name. It's all he's talked about since I hit puberty, me someday becoming a dad myself. He's looking forward to it."

"What about your mom?"

"I don't know how big a fuss she'll make. She might not make one at all, and that'll make it that much worse. Instead of hearing how disappointed she is, I'll have to see it in her eyes and hear it in the way she talks to me. I'm not going there."

"Well I know your parents," Kyle said, "and I think they'll love it."

"Then you don't know them very well," Stan said. "And then there's your parents. Hey, what do you think old What-what-what mother hen Broflovski is going to say when she finds out her son is a homosexual? Doesn't your religion say to stone homos in the street or something?"

"I don't care what my religion says, and I don't care what my mom says!" Kyle cried. "I want you. That's all that matters to me. Why do we have to keep a relationship that's so beautiful a secret? I think we should tell everybody. Cartman would give us a hard time, of course, but Kenny would be thrilled..."

"Do you hear how you're talking?" Stan shot back. "You seem to have this delusion that we're going to have this wonderful, happy life together with two kids and a dog and a little house with a white picket fence. That's just not going to happen, Kyle."

"Oh, really?" Kyle replied, sitting up. "And what kind of future do I have with you, Stan? Are we going to hide our love forever? Are we going to go through this whole scene where we get married to our little trophy wives to prove how straight we are to everybody, while we're banging each other behind the scenes? Can anyone say Brokeback Mountain?"

"I'm sorry, Kyle," Stan said. "I'm not ready to tell people who I'm gay, and I don't know when or if I ever will be. I mean, think of what that will do to my reputation. The big time high school quarterback who's going to take us all the way to state this year, hoo ya, is sleeping with another guy. The guy all the girls are falling over is falling over his best friend. I'd be ruined. They guys in the locker room wouldn't want to shower with me anymore. My friends might not want to hang out anymore..."

"Wait a damn minute," Kyle said. "You're worried that the other guys on the football team might not want to shower with you anymore? That's your big concern? And if your friends don't want to hang out with you, then they weren't really your friends anyway. Besides, a true friend like Kenny would never turn his back on you."

"So what you're saying is that you're good with me being a friendless outcast as long as we get to come out of the closet together?"

"You're putting words in my mouth," Kyle said.

"No, that's exactly what you're saying," Stan shot back. "You're saying that it's okay that all my friends walk out on me, because they obviously weren't my real friends anyway, and hey by the way it's also groovy that my reputation is shot because we're out of the closet now."

"No."

"Then what are you saying?" Stan asked. "Tell me what you're saying, because I'm obviously mistaken as usual."

"What's that supposed to mean, then?"

"Only that you have this ridiculous need to be right all the time."

"No, I don't!"

"There you go again."

"How long have you felt this way?" Kyle asked.

"For awhile now," Stan replied. "It's not easy to be wrong all the damn time. If I say anything, you've almost always got a reason why I could have said it better, or more proper, or how I got this wrong or that wrong. You can never say to me 'You know, Stan, you're right'. Those words have never come out of your mouth."

Instead of replying, Kyle started putting his clothes back on. He started with the pants. He pulled them up, buttoned them, and zipped them before Stan spoke.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"If I'm such a pain, then maybe I'll just leave," Kyle replied.

"Oh, don't do that," Stan said. "You sound like a woman when you do that."

"Whatever, Stan," Kyle said as he tied his shoes. "I won't bother you with my womanly ways anymore."

He jumped to his feet and pulled his shirt on. Stan got up and put an arm on his shoulder.

"Wait," he said. "Just wait."

"What?"

Stan snuggled up to him and wrapped his hands around Kyle's waist.

"I don't want you to go."

Kyle tried to pull away, but Stan stuck his face between the crook in Kyle's shoulder and his neck and started kissing.

"Don't go."

"Let me go, Stan," Kyle said, though there was no real force behind it. Soon he was giggling at Stan's kisses. "Stop it, you big lug!"

And just like that, things were right between them. There was no need for apologies. As a famous movie once said, love means never having to say you're sorry, and Stan and Kyle knew this all too well. There had been several occasions where words had passed between them, but they always patched it up in their own way. They sealed the deal with Eskimo kisses and lay down in the hay together, snuggled up.

"Have you given any thought to the college situation?" Kyle asked.

"What college situation?" Stan replied.

"Don't play dumb with me," Kyle said. "You know as well as I do that we have to apply to the same colleges next year if we're going to get one that accepts us both. I was just wondering if you'd given any thoughts to what schools you might be interested in trying."

"No," Stan said. "I haven't been thinking about it. Hell, we've got an entire year, Kyle."

"Yes, but we need to start getting ready now if we're going to be ready by then."

"Sure, Kyle," Stan replied without much enthusiasm.

Kyle squinted an eyebrow at him.

"You do want to go to the same college, right?" he asked. "I mean, I don't know what I'd do without you. We just have to go to the same school, Stan. We just have to."

"All right, Kyle, all right," Stan said. "We'll sit down soon and plan all this stuff out. For now, can't we just sit here and enjoy the day?"

"Sure, Stan," Kyle said with a smile. "We can do that. That sounds nice."

For several more minutes, nothing was said between them. They just sat there holding each other closely and listening to the wind blowing outside. Kyle reached over and gave Stan a peck on the cheek. Stan looked at him and gave him a warm smile, then resumed staring off into space. He looked deep in thought and Kyle was curious why. What was Stan thinking about so hard?

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"Mmm?" Stan replied with a shake of his head. "Oh, nothing. Just...stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Just stuff, Kyle."

"Tell me."

"Kyle..."

"Oh, come on!" Kyle moaned. "I wanna know what's going through that beautiful head of yours."

"It's nothing important."

"Tell me anyway."

"Why do you have to make such a big deal about it?"

"Big deal? I'm not making a big deal out of it. I was just asking. If you didn't want to tell me, all you had to do was say something."

"I did."

"I just don't know why you can't share your thoughts with me," Kyle said.

"Maybe because they're my thoughts?" Stan replied. "I didn't know my thoughts were public record."

"Oh, just forget it," Kyle shot back. "You're obviously not willing to share any of your thoughts with me, so why should we even continue to talk about it?"

"Why is this such a big deal to you?" Stan asked. "Why can't you just let it go?"

"Why are you acting like you've got something to hide?" Kyle shot back.

"It's not that I have something to hide," Stan replied, "it's just that I don't feel I should have to share my thoughts with you at any given moment and time like that. I'm not hiding anything from you."

"I thought we were closer than this, Stan," Kyle said. "I thought we could share our deepest secrets and thoughts with each other."

"We can, we can," Stan said, exasperated. "There are just times and places for things like that, and I didn't happen to think it was a good time to be sharing my thoughts."

"Why not?"

Stan sighed and began to put his clothes on.

"What are you doing?" Kyle asked.

"Getting out of here," Stan said. "This is a bum drag, man. I would have enjoyed sitting here enjoying the day with you. Instead, you keep bringing up shit that I have no wish to talk about. I'm gonna go wait by the car."

"Don't go, Stan," Kyle said. "We don't have to talk about this anymore."

"Forget it, Kyle," Stan replied. "I'm done with this shit."

"Please?"

Stan stopped. He wasn't sure why. He supposed it was something in Kyle's voice, that pleading tone. Kyle was usually a very reserved person and didn't plead for anything. It was different to hear it. It made it more real, more concrete. He had one sock on and a pair of boxers, but he sat there looking at Kyle, wondering what he should do.

"No more bullshit?" he asked. "Because if there is..."

"No more bullshit, I swear," Kyle said.

Stan sat staring at him for several seconds before answering. In those moments, the tension in the air was so thick he could almost taste it.

"Well, all right," Stan said. "I'll stay, but I'm gonna hold you to your word, and I still need to get dressed. I can't lay naked in the hay all day."

For a while, nothing was said. Stan continued to pull his clothes on and Kyle continued to watch. When Stan finished, Kyle snuggled up against him again and closed his eyes. They continued to keep up their silence for several minutes before Stan spoke again.

"You know, Kyle," he said, "I was thinking about something you said to me not too long ago."

"Oh?" Kyle said. "What's that?"

"About us being together forever," Stan replied. "You said you wanted to be with me until they lay us both in the ground."

"Absolutely."

"Why is that?" Stan asked. "Wouldn't you be happier with someone else, someone who didn't have to hide their homosexuality, someone who could give you everything you deserve?"

"I don't want anyone else," Kyle shot back without a moment's hesitation. "I want my Stanley."

"The thing is, Kyle, I don't know how good I really am for you."

"Now who's talking all serious?" Kyle teased.

"I'm being serious here," Stan said. "You have to hide with me, pretend to be dating Bebe so that nobody will think anything's up. You can't even hold hands with me in public for Christ's sake. What kind of a relationship is that?"

"Do you really want to talk about this?" Kyle asked. "I thought you just wanted to sit here in the silence and enjoy the day."

"I do, I do," Stan replied. "I just don't want you to suffer on my account."

"Stan, does it really seem like I'm suffering?"

Stan looked at him in silence for several beats before answering.

"...Sometimes."

"Well, I'm not," Kyle said, taking Stan's face in his hands. "Stan, you're the only thing in my life I couldn't live without. I love you with all my heart, don't you know that?"

"Yeah, I know that," Stan said, "but just because you love a person doesn't make it healthy to love them. I'm probably the worst thing in your life, and you don't even realize it."

"How, Stan? Tell me how."

"Because I'm only going to hold you back," Stan said. "How many of those colleges do you really think are going to give me a second glance? They'll take you for sure, Mister Straight A, four point oh grade point average, but me? A mediocre C and D student? Not without outstanding SAT scores, which I'm not counting on."

"Is that what's been on your mind so often recently?" Kyle asked. "Is that what you were thinking about a few minutes ago?"

"Yes, Kyle, that's what I was thinking about, okay? I was thinking what a waste it is for someone as fantastic as you to want to spend your life with me."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"Well, look at the evidence. I'm not even comfortable with the way I am. You could probably come out of the closet and be perfectly happy as an openly gay man. I couldn't do that. I couldn't deal with people staring at me, I couldn't deal with the fact that they know, that they're judging me for it. I mean, I don't know how comfortable I'd be with everyone knowing my personal business, thinking of me as Stan-the-homo, Stan-the-homo, Stan-the-homo."

"But we could deal with that together!" Kyle cried.

"No, we couldn't," Stan said. "That's another thing about me that's not good for you. I have to deal with things on my own. No amount of talking to you about what's bothering me is going to put my mind at ease. I've always been that way, and I'll always be that way."

"So talking to me doesn't help?"

"Not really. I mean, it's not that I don't like our talks or that I don't consider what you have to say. The thing is, my problems are my problems and I'm hardwired to deal with everything myself. No amount of you telling me that it's okay to be gay will make it that way in my head."

"But it is okay to be gay!" Kyle protested. "Nobody cares in this era. It's like being black or being blind. It's just the way some people are, and people are much more accepting of that."

"I wish I had your optimism," Stan said. "I just don't trust people enough to tell them my personal business. If it gets out to one person that I'm gay, then I'll see accusations in the eyes of every person, regardless of whether I'm in the supermarket or walking through the park."

"Is this something that you think you'll ever get over?"

"I don't know," Stan said. "It seems unlikely."

"Well... I mean..." Kyle stuttered. "We can... deal with that. We'll find a way."

"There is no way to deal with that," Stan replied. "The only thing I can do is stay in hiding for the rest of my life, and that's not fair to you. You deserve someone you can feel free to be yourself with. You shouldn't have to spend your whole life hiding with me."

"But I love you!"

"I know you do," Stan said, "but you shouldn't."

"Now who's talking crazy?" Kyle said. "Why shouldn't I love you? So we've got a few problems we've got to work through. What couple doesn't?"

"This is more than a few problems. This is a major fucking issue."

"Okay, so it's a major fucking issue. We'll figure it out."

Stan jumped to his feet and began pacing.

"I don't know why you aren't grasping what I'm trying to tell you," he said.

"I don't know why you can't just sit here and enjoy the day with me, like you said you wanted to do,"

"Is this so easy to shrug off?" Stan asked. "I mean, I'm talking about some serious shit here..."

"Which you were going to walk out on me for doing," Kyle reminded him. "What's gotten into you?"

"I dunno," Stan said.

"Well sit down and relax," Kyle replied. "You're making me nervous with all this talk, like you want to break up with me or something."

"Maybe that would be best."

Kyle was shocked. He felt his heart plummet into his shoes and for some time he was unable to speak. He just sat there, staring at Stan.

"I can't believe you just said that," Kyle said when he regained his composure. He felt tears begin to sting his eyes and he had to reach up and wipe them away. "Is that what you really want, Stan? To break up with me?"

"I dunno," Stan said. "I just think that maybe you could do better than me. I think you'd be happier with someone else."

"Stan, stop this now," Kyle moaned, wiping the tears from his eyes. "You're scaring me."

"Kyle, listen to me," Stan said, getting down on his knees in front of Kyle and wiping the tears away. "You're a great guy, and you deserve someone who will treat you like a prince. I'm just not that guy. Oh, don't cry, come on. You need someone who's better for you than I am."

"I don't want anyone else," Kyle said, sniffling. "I want you. You're my best friend. You've been there for me since we were in diapers. Nobody else in this world would fill the gap that you'd leave. Please don't leave me."

"Kyle..."

"Please, Stan!"

"Maybe we should just drop it," San said. "Maybe we should..."

"No, we should not just drop it!" Kyle snarled. "You've thought all these awful things and haven't been telling me, and now that you've opened up this can of worms you are most definitely not going to just back out as if it were no big deal!"

"Okay, okay," came the reply. "I just don't know what else you want me to say. I think you'd be better off without me. Obviously, you disagree. There's not much more to talk about."

"I want you to promise me you aren't going to break up with me," Kyle said. "Promise me!"

"Kyle, I can't..."

"PROMISE ME!"

"All right, Kyle," Stan said, a bit shaken. He'd never heard Kyle raise his voice to him like that before. "I promise you I won't break up with you."

"Good," Kyle said, getting to his feet. "Now let's go home. I'm upset."

Kyle walked out of the barn and stood by Stan's car, his arms folded over his chest. Stan got up and followed after him, unsure if he was going to be able to keep his promise. After all, Kyle did deserve more than Stan could give him, so much more. Maybe it would be best if Stan just severed contact with him for good, made a nice clean break. They'd both be heartbroken for a while, but they'd eventually move on. Kyle would find another guy, someone who could treat him better than Stan ever could, and they'd build a great life together. Stan would settle into a quiet, solitary life. He would stare up at the stars every night and wonder how happy Kyle was, if he was being held tight and treated like royalty, the way he deserved.

He climbed into the car and started up the engine, still thinking about these things. Even after Kyle climbed in and they drove away, he was thinking about it. Even after he dropped Kyle off and went back home, these things were still on his mind, as he ate dinner, as he showered, as he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. He didn't know what he was going to do, only that he needed to do it soon. Maybe even tomorrow.

Kyle deserves so much more than I can give him.

This was his last thought before he dropped off to sleep, where he dreamed of Kyle dating a tall, handsome stranger. He was so happy, because he was free to be gay, free to pursue whatever he liked. There was no Stan to hold him back. There was just Kyle and his new love, together forever in the way that Kyle deserved.

 **A/N-** ** _Remember to like, follow, share, and review. This is Boi Marsh signing out!_**


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